estless eyes,
and wore a heavy black moustache that was liberally sprinkled with
gray. The lower part of his face was shaved clean. He showed some
embarrassment as he came forward to meet Mrs. Dinneford.

"Mr. Feeling," she said, coldly.

The man bowed with a mixture of obsequiousness and familiarity, and
tried to look steadily into Mrs. Dinneford's face, but was not able to
do so. There was a steadiness and power in her eyes that his could not
bear.

"What do you want with me, sir?" she demanded, a little sharply.

"Take a chair, and I will tell you," replied Freeling, and he turned,
moving toward a corner of the room, she following. They sat down, taking
chairs near each other.

"There's trouble brewing," said the man, his face growing dark and
anxious.

"What kind of trouble?"

"I had a letter from George Granger yesterday."

"What!" The color went out of the lady's face.

"A letter from George Granger. He wished to see me."

"Did you go?"

"Yes."

"What did he want?"

Freeling took a deep breath, and sighed. His manner was troubled.

"What did he want?" Mrs. Dinneford repeated the question.

"He's as sane as you or I," said Freeling.

"Is he? Oh, very well! Then let him go to the State's prison." Mrs.
Dinneford said this with some bravado in her manner. But the color did
not come back to her face.

"He has no idea of that," was replied.

"What then?" The lady leaned toward Freeling. Her hands moved nervously.

"He means to have the case in court again, but on a new issue."

"He does!"

"Yes; says that he's innocent, and that you and I know it--that he's the
victim of a conspiracy, and that we are the conspirators!"

"Talk!--amounts to nothing," returned Mrs. Dinneford, with a faint
little laugh.

"I don't know about that. It's ugly talk, and especially so, seeing that
it's true."

"No one will give credence to the ravings of an insane criminal."

"People are quick to credit an evil report. They will pity and believe
him, now that the worst is reached. A reaction in public feeling has
already taken place. He has one or two friends left who do not hesitate
to affirm that there has been foul play. One of these has been tampering
with a clerk of mine, and I came upon them with their heads together
on the street a few days ago, and had my suspicions aroused by their
startled look when they saw me."

"'What did that man want with you?' I inquired, when the clerk came in.

"He hesitated